


beautiful

by wubbo



Category: The Roaring Trainers (Podcast)
Genre: Awkwardness, Canon Universe, Crushes, Domestic, Dysfunctional Family, Falling In Love, Family, Feelings, Fluff, M/M, Obscure fandom fic ahoy!, One Shot, Past, Pining, Relationship(s), Romance, Seriously tho please listen to The Roaring Trainers podcast, Swearing, just a lil, that’s the only reason it’s not G-rated tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-07 00:46:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19197703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wubbo/pseuds/wubbo
Summary: “Throughout his whole life, Wesley was handsome. He’d never thought of himself as anything else.So when he was beautiful, it was difficult to process.”





	beautiful

**Author's Note:**

> I really just wrote this because I didn’t have the motivation to finish any of the dozens of WIPs I had. So one late night I wrote this short, cheesy mess and didn’t touch it for ages. Then, after still not finishing anything else, I went through several rounds of editing and now this fic is here. Happy pride month, my dudes.

Wesley didn’t hate being called “handsome”. It was a nice compliment. He tried his best to _look_ handsome, of course, with his suits and ties and well kept hair. Yet the word didn’t hold too much weight to him. 

Growing up, he _had_ to be handsome. If he walked out of his bedroom and didn’t get that compliment, it was a sign to go back and redress himself. Wesley distinctly remembered the night of the Hales’ fifth annual charity banquet, when he strolled in with brown slacks that clashed with his black blazer. The scolding he got still made him pause every now and then. It wasn’t the worst scolding he ever got, especially not from his father, but it stuck.

“You need to look your best, Wesley. You are always representing our family and our business. If you aren’t trying to look handsome, you’re ruining us with every step you take. Keep that in mind.”

So Wesley didn’t fuck up his clothes from then on. He’d plan outfits a day ahead, make sure everything was clean and pressed. If he didn’t, he’d get that crisp look of disappointment only his parents could give, and that hurt more than anything when he was little. As he grew up, he gradually lost interest in what his parents thought. It felt like they wanted so little to do with him unless it benefitted the company in some way. So though Wesley kept up appearances, he stopped thinking about it as hard. And when he got called handsome, he just took it as a sign that he’d done his job correctly. That’s nothing to write home about.

Throughout his whole life, Wesley was always handsome. He’d never thought of himself as anything else.

So when he was beautiful, it was difficult to process.

The trio had been sleeping in a Pokémon Center as usual, though due to limited spacing, Wesley and Atticus had to share a bed. Wes prepared for an awkward night. He was ready to put a wall of pillows between them and not speak until morning. But Atticus didn’t care if they were in the same bed. He acted just the same, cracking jokes and lamenting the lack of a bar in the town. And Wesley began to not care either. He giggled and groaned and just generally enjoyed Atticus’s company. 

Hours went by with them just shooting the shit. Then, an hour or so after midnight, Atticus made the dumbest joke Wesley had ever heard. Wesley snorted and laughed. He threw his head back a bit. His cheeks burned. It felt so nice to laugh like that, to really let go. He rarely allowed himself to.

Atticus stared at Wesley, watched that genuine laughter come out. Wesley’s attention went back to Atticus in time to see the fond little grin on his face. The eyes half lidded with exhaustion, but filled with affection all the same.

And suddenly, he said it.

“God, you’re beautiful. I wish I could get you to laugh more.”

Wesley’s brain short circuited. He froze up. He must’ve looked distressed or hurt or something, because Atticus immediately began trying to back pedal. Not knowing how to react, Wesley let him. They silently agreed to pretend he never said it. They moved on to another topic and finally got too tired to keep up conversation.

But all Wesley could think as he tried to sleep was the way the word “beautiful” slipped so effortlessly out of Atticus’s lips. The way it felt to be called that. The way it felt for Atticus in particular to call him that.

Atticus thought he looked beautiful when he laughed. 

Wesley wasn’t sure what that meant to Atticus, but to him, it meant a lot. He couldn’t place the what or the why, but he could feel the way his heart raced and his stomach fluttered. Even when he was a child, being called handsome never felt like this. This feeling was foreign. But it was too wonderful.

He fell asleep. He woke up. He spent the day with his travel companions and he and Atticus didn’t bring it up. But they both remembered, and Wesley couldn’t get it out of his head. He hoped Atticus would stop in his tracks and look at him the same way. And call him that word again.

He wanted Atticus to keep thinking he was beautiful.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos are always appreciated, and if you leave a comment, I’ll be forever in your debt!


End file.
